Broken
by Come Lady Death
Summary: A young elf girl, rescued from dire circumstances, falls for Aragorn. He does not return her affection. Aragorn/OOC, and deliberately Mary Sue. I suppose you could call it badfic. R & R would be nice!
1. Chapter 1

_Now follows the tale of Rosegold Morgil, daughter of Elrond Half-Elven. I write this account in the face of her accusations, that no man may forget her name._

She heard the men when they rode up to Isengard.

She was there when Saruman went out to speak with them.

She saw Wormtongue leave her side to join him.

With one ear at the door to the roof of Orthanc, she heard Grima's cry as Saruman rebuked him with a heavy hand.

She turned the knob slowly and stepped out onto the roof, casting a wary glance at the white wizard who still stood speaking to the party below.

The girl was a sight to behold. Her clothes were ragged and nearly falling off of her slender frame. Her hair was strawberry blonde and long, reaching to her waist and fanning in the breeze. Her skin, the color of sea foam, was marked with scars and bruises; tokens of Saruman's affections. The barely slanted eyes that constantly flicked to Saruman were a deep, beautiful sea green in hue. She looked like an ocean maid, born and bred.

This so-called ocean maid now made as if to creep to the side of Wormtongue, whom Saruman had struck down. But the man was already up, a mad glint in his eye. Drawing forth a hidden dagger he rushed the wizard and stabbed him once! twice! Then a green-fletched arrow came darting from below and pierced Wormtongue's chest, flinging him back to the center of the rooftop. Saruman swayed, eyes wide, then fell with a soft swish of robes. The watching girl's attentions, however, were focused upon the dying man before her. She knelt by his side and cradled his head upon her lap.

At first he seemed not to notice her, staring blankly into the distance. "All for naught," he whispered forlornly. His pale eyes shifted and stared through her with unmentionable sadness. "'Twas all for naught." He raised a trembling hand to her face. Her eyes shone wet with unshed tears as Grima's hand faltered and fell. He was dead.

The girl stood carefully, laying him back onto the stone. Going to the edge, she swung her head over the side, glaring down at the ones who had killed the man she cared for the most. But when she looked down and saw the company below, fear took her and she drew back sharply. It was too late. The breeze, catching her hair, had unfurled it like a flag. She had been seen.

A voice floated up from below. "Girl, come down. We mean you no harm. Come down to us."

She leaped for the door and fairly flew down Orthanc's stone steps. She dared not disobey, and it only later occurred to her that she could have hidden out for days within the tower.

As she passed, a boy with raven-dark hair reached out and grabbed her. Her heart leapt into her throat until she saw the terror in the young one's face. "What is happening? Where is Sharkey? Have you betrayed us all?" He raised his hand to strike her in a blind need for information. The girl whimpered and jerked away, tripping as she did so. She fell down a score or more of stairs before getting to her feet and continuing the descent.

When she came to the large doors of Orthanc, she paused. Since the overthrowing of Isengard, they had been blocked. But as she set her shoulder against one of the wide wooden doors, it creaked easily open. The five men were waiting for her. A white-garbed man on an equally white horse came toward her. He extended a hand to her, to help her swing onto the horse. When the girl had registered his appearance, however, she cringed away and would not take the man's hand. The old man sighed and snatched her arm anyway, pulling her up in front of him on the horse. Then they were away.

On the ride back to Edoras, the group chatted and swapped tales of adventures. They laughed together, just happy to be with one other again. Only the girl from Isengard stayed silent. One by one the men stopped, stared at her for a while, then went back to their conversations. Gandalf most of all darted frequent glances at the girl. Only he had seen them; the slight points on the ears of this mysteriously silent girl.


	2. Chapter 2

At the victory celebration that night, the girl was everywhere, quietly serving wherever she could. She still had not spoken a word since Isengard.

Legolas stood off to one side, watching her. He surreptitiously observed her grace and her poise. He also noted her skittish nature, never speaking, shying away from all touch, and verging on panic whenever she did something she perceived to be wrong. Her behaviour was a great mystery to the Mirkwood prince.

As the girl bent to pass under the gesturing arm of a soldier of Rohan, Legolas froze. One pointed ear showed through the girl's ever-present curtain of strawberry hair. The glimpse was so sudden, so shocking, that Legolas was not even sure that he _had_ seen it. But he had to know for sure. Looking up, he met Gandalf's eyes. The wizard had been watching him, waiting for the elf to connect the dots. Gandalf nodded to a side room, then vanished into the crowd.

Legolas approached the girl, trying to think up something to say that would not scare her. But he knew his mission was hopeless when he ran right into her. The poor girl gasped and nearly choked in panic. Seeing that a diplomatic approach was lost to him, Legolas simply put on his 'you are in trouble now' face and led her to the room Gandalf had indicated.

The room was empty and dark, lit only by a candle or two and the moonlight shining in through a single window. Eomer, Theoden, Aragorn and Gandalf sat in a circle, waiting. Legolas took the last empty seat in the circle and the girl warily sat on the floor in the middle of the ring. Her hands shook slightly and she kept her gaze riveted on the flagstone floor.

Theoden broke the heavy silence. "Gandalf, what is this about? Tonight is a night of feasting, not of dark secrets." A muffled roar from the feast hall punctuated his words and Gandalf looked to Legolas.

The elf stood slowly and started toward the girl. She curled up on herself, but otherwise did not stop his advance. He stopped when she cringed. "Understand," he said, "I do not mean to harm you." She murmured something, but stayed still as Legolas reached and folded her hair behind her ears. A charge ran through the room as the points were unveiled.

Gandalf spoke as Legolas took his seat. "I think it is time you told us your story. And your name."

The girl's voice was as a low tolling of evening bells, yet came forth as a dull monotone. "My name is Rosegold. I named myself, for my master never saw fit to give me a name.

"Few now alive know that when Celebrian was taken to the torment dens of the Orcs, she was with child. I doubt even Elrond knew. My mother was tortured for many months, and it is a miracle that she did not miscarry me. When I was born alive into a torture pit, the Orcs were shocked and ready to end my brief life. But by another miracle, Saruman had heard of the pregnancy of Celebrian. He thought an elven lad may have some use in later days. So he sent for me just in time, and I was brought to Isengard.

"When I came into his house and he saw that I was not a son of Elrond but a daughter, Saruman flew into a rage. But he did not kill me, oh no. He kept me as a slave in Orthanc." She drew a deep, shuddering breath and started to rock back and forth, wrapping her arms around her knees, which were drawn up to her chest.

"I was beaten and starved. Saruman kept alive, through his magic, images of Celebrian's torment. He made me watch them for hours on end, all the while telling me the terrible truth. Celebrian's pain was my fault" The elf's shoulders shook as she thought of the screams.

Rosegold lifted her head and said quietly, "All manner of things were done to me. I was even...even made to bear the child of Saruman the White."

Eomer was on his feet in a heartbeat. "A child of Saruman?" Theoden put his hand on the young man's arm, and Eomer slowly sat down again. But his gaze was fixed on the girl with a single question on his lips.

The elven maid smiled faintly. "A son of Saruman. His only son and heir. Raised to hate, raised to rule. He is trained somewhat in the ways of his father's magic. He hides still in Orthanc, afraid for his pathetic life."

As she dropped her eyes again, Aragorn and Legolas traded glances, saying nothing.

After a pause, Rosegold continued. "During my time as Saruman's slave, a man entered Saruman's service. His name was Grima. also called the Wormtongue." At that name, Theoden and Eomer both tensed. Rosegold flinched at the intensity of their interest. "Grima came out of a desire to have the hand of the White Lady of Rohan, but as the years drew on we became closer and closer. He was a man for many women, but I believe that I was special to him. We had a...brief relationship.

"When Wormtongue rode into Isengard telling of his banishment and the loss of power over Rohan, Saruman was enraged. He turned on Grima, striking him senseless. His son, Angrenbor, had hidden, knowing enough to be afraid of his father's anger. I did not have the right or the foolishness to run.

"Saruman used his hands and his magic to release his rising rancor. When at last it was spent, I could barely move. Grima came and helped me recover, without Saruman knowing it. He was a coward, among many other things, and was not willing to risk Saruman's wrath, even for me (though he claimed that he loved me).

"When Isengard was taken, Saruman's wrath was greater than it was at Rohan's defiance. Grima, learning from experience, hid with Angrenbor. The white wizard, after searching fruitlessly for his son and his servant, came to find me, wrath doubled. He tied my hands and beat the skin from my back. He used an Orc whip and used it well until I could scream no more and hung limp."

She bit her lip, shuddering sobs wracking her thin body. When, after a time, she had composed herself, she went on.

"Soon after that was when your party entered the valley. Saruman was searching for me again, for some random misdemeanor which was very likely imagined, not committed. Angrenbor was around somewhere, practising the dark arts his father was teaching him. Grima took pity on me and so we hid in one of the good places that Angrenbor had shown him. Then you came and Saruman left off the hunt to treat with you. Grima, curious and tired of being cooped up, left me to go up there too. I listened at the door until... Wormtongue was..."

She put her head on her knees and tried to quell her weeping. There was a long silence in which no one moved or spoke. Finally Gandalf broke the stillness and approached the elf. He laid a hand on her head and she flinched. Looking up, she saw who it was that touched her and scrambled away, eyes wide in panic.

The wizard sadly realized that his being a white wizard excited her fears rather than comforting them. Very slowly, and trying to appear non-threatening, he knelt, laying aside his staff. He extended his open hands to her, saying quietly, "I am not Saruman, or anything like him. True, I am a white wizard, but Saruman was twisted by Sauron. That is no excuse for what he did, of course, but I cannot atone or answer for his actions. I can only attempt to make them right. I want to help you."

Rosegold scooted further away from him and ended up pressed back against Aragorn's knees. When she hit him, she looked up sharply, her green eyes reflecting alarm. He reached down to her and pulled her into a strong embrace. The sincerity in his eyes pulled Rosegold up short. She had never experienced the like before. After a moment, she melted into him, weeping her heart out. Aragorn gave Gandalf an apologetic look. The wizard, for his part, was not disturbed by the girl's rejection. He stood and gathered his staff, taking his seat in dignified silence. The other men sat in silence, unwilling to break the spell of the moment. Aragorn's hands worked soothingly, but with some hesitation, over the girl's back, healing what wounds he could, both in her body and in her heart.


	3. Chapter 3

Over the next few days, Rosegold lost some of her temerity, but as was to be expected, it was a constant battle for her to realize that no one in Edoras meant her any harm. Her healing was aided by the fact that Gandalf rode for Gondor the next day, leaving her no symbol of Saruman to fear.

Also she became more and more attracted to the ranger Aragorn. She watched him alone and with the people; his kindness, courage and natural leadership drawing her heart. Never before had the elf felt this way, not even toward Wormtongue, who up till now had been her only love. Now that she knew somewhat what real love felt like (having received some measure of it from all she met in Edoras), Rosegold felt sure that this was what she was feeling toward Aragorn. So one night, the former slave called up her courage and went to speak to Aragorn, prepared to offer her heart.

Aragorn, however, had been noticing her attentions. He became increasingly aware of her watching him and on rare occasions following him. The heir of Isildur uncomfortably realized that he would eventually have to tell Rosegold about Arwen, his only love, and dash her proffered affections to the ground. It pained him to have to do so, but he could see no other end to her interest. So when the elf girl approached him in the moon-washed night, this was what occurred.

"My Lord, a moment?"

In the Golden Hall in Edoras, Aragorn felt a light touch at his elbow and turned to find a nervous Rosegold standing beside him. Dread flooded through his heart, for he knew without words what she was going to say. But still he forced a smile and nodded. "Of course. What can I do for you?"

Hesitantly and awkwardly, but gaining confidence as she got on with it, Rosegold poured out her heart. She explained in detail her tentative feelings, then waited pensively for his reaction.

Aragorn winced. He had to tell her. Raising one hand, he pulled open his collar, exposing the necklace Arwen had given him at their last meeting. As he did so, Rosegold's hand, which had been seeking his, brushed his fingertips. Involuntarily he jerked his hand away. Immediately knowing that it was the wrong thing to do, he plunged ahead.

"Rosegold, this necklace was given to me be Arwen Undomiel. Your sister. She means more to me than life itself, and I can only hope I mean as much to her. She waits for me in Imladris, forsaking immortality for love. I cannot betray her trust by turning to another. I am sorry."

For a moment the elf maid stood still as stone. Then she dropped to her knees, both of her hands clasping Aragorn's left. "Forgive me," she whispered brokenly. "I was too bold." A single crystal tear fell from her eye and splashed onto the ring the man wore. Then Rosegold stood and ran out onto the balcony. Aragorn stared after her, watching as she fell to her knees at the edge, put her head on her arms, and began to sob. Pained at having hurt her so, the ranger started toward her.


	4. Chapter 4

Rosegold wept, feeling as if she no longer had a heart, only an empty hole where the spawn of Morgoth dwelled. Many things crashed through her tormented mind, but one scene replayed over and over again. She pressed her face into her arms, trying to block out the words...

_Saruman slapped her hard, leaving finger prints on her cheek. Rosegold, terrified, watched as the wizard's hands slid smoothly over her body. Saruman looked disgusted. "You are imperfect," he declared, slapping her again and again to emphasize his words. "A waste of flesh and elven blood. No man could ever want you, not really. You are good only to be used, not loved. No one could ever truly love you."_

At that moment, Aragorn reached out and placed a gentle hand on the elf's hair. Rosegold whirled on him, quick as a thought, her mind still snared in dark memories. "No!" she screamed, her fingers hooking into talons as she lashed out at what she perceived to be the cruel white wizard.

But just as quickly her mind cleared and she saw with horror that it was Aragorn that stood before her. Her eyes widened when she saw the three tiny red marks on the bewildered ranger's jawline, one just beginning to well with blood.

Rosegold fell on her knees before the son of Arathorn. "Please, please forgive me!" she pleaded. "I didn't-didn't know it was you, I..." She nearly choked on her panic and continued frantically, "I will kiss your feet, I will put my neck beneath your heel, I will give you anything I possess, I will do whatever you ask of me, but please, my lord, have mercy!"

Rosegold's words loosed a memory long caged in Aragorn's mind; a memory of Elrond many years ago, saying almost the exact same words. The pain of the memory and the deathly fear in the voice of the daughter of Elrond brought tears to the ranger's own eyes. He reached to comfort her, but thought better of it. "Stay here," he cautioned her, and sprinted off.

He sought out Legolas. The silvan elf could no doubt soothe his own kind far better than any human ever could. Finding Legolas awake, Aragorn briefly explained the whole mess and asked his friend for help. With Legolas' consent, they both hurried back to the elven maid.

The girl, having heard no word of either mercy or condemnation from the ranger, was sitting pensively alone, fiddling with her hair as she waited. When she saw Legolas and Aragorn approaching together, her heart seized within her. Instead of pity, in their faces she read punishment. She collapsed into a dead faint at the thought.

The two ran to her side. Aragorn groaned. "I knew I should've had more tact in telling her about Arwen!"

Legolas felt the girl's wrist. "There's nothing you can do about it now, Aragorn. She's alive, but very frightened. It may be best if you avoid her from now on." He looked pointedly at the man. "Lest something of this nature happens again."

Aragorn sighed. "You're right, of course. Let's leave her with the healers. Maybe they can do something for her." Legolas agreed and together they bore her thence.

After making sure the healers would keep her there until Aragorn was safely gone, the man stayed, looking at her thoughtfully. Legolas touched his shoulder. "We should go."

The ranger waved him away. "You go ahead, I'll be there in a minute." With a sideways glance at his friend, the elf left. Making sure no one was around, Aragorn turned his eyes back to the elf on the bed.

Rosegold lay peacefully, hands folded on her chest. The only indications that she had been terrified within an inch of her life were her pulse fluttering in her neck and the way her eyes rolled beneath their closed lids. A single tear slipped down her face. Aragorn caught it on his ring and touched it to his lips.

"I will remember you, Rosegold Morgil." Then he turned and strode out to meet Legolas. The next day, he was gone, all thoughts of a lovelorn elf maiden driven from his mind. It would be years before they would next meet.


	5. Chapter 5

20 Years Later

King Elessar rode slowly down a forest path, lost in thought, drinking in the solitude. Ever since the War of the Ring, life had been one political issue after another, what with establishing his authority, running out the remainder of Sauron's evil and such like things. There had barely been time to breath, much less to be alone. And now that Arwen and he had a child, things were even more hectic at the White Tower. But there were the rare treasured moments when the King Elessar could slip away by himself for a few hours without an entourage of guards. This was one of those times.

Suddenly he was startled by a rider on a chestnut mare, who rode up suddenly and fell into step with Roheryn as if nothing strange had occurred. Reacting quickly, Aragorn Elessar had Anduril halfway drawn when he realized that a blade was leveled at his throat. Sighing, he let the sword fall back and raised his hands, mentally berating himself for becoming slower with the years.

Then the figure spoke. "Do you not know me, son of Arathorn?" The voice could have been female, but Elessar couldn't be sure. The stranger wore the garb of a Ranger from the North, and he had but rarely heard of female rangers.

His voice quivering slightly for a reason he did not know, Elessar said, "Remove your hood. Let me see your face." The blade swiftly vanished and as he lowered his hands the hood was thrown back.

The Ranger was now revealed as definitely female, with long strawberry-blonde and sea green eyes which pierced him with a proud stare. Her skin was pale; alabaster freckled with little brown dots over her nose and under her eyes. She was almost cute, except for the fact that her face and pointed ears spoke of a nobler heritage. An elven Ranger.

Elessar's mind raced, trying to match face with memory. "You have the look of Elrond Half-elven," he said slowly, uncertainly.

The Ranger gave a very unladylike snort. "I should hope so, for I am his daughter. Though, I've never met him and I doubt he even knows that I exist."

The King's eyes widened. "Rosegold? How?" He could hardly believe what he thought he was hearing.

The woman nodded. "I am she. The Morgil, some call me. So I see you do remember me at last. You have forgotten me quickly, more quickly than I would've thought. But then, you are human after all." Here she paused, but before Elessar could even begin to reply, she went on. "Life since Edoras has been good to you, I gather. You've come into your inheritance as heir of Isildur, conquered the evil of the east and you even married your beloved Arwen." A bitter edge crept into her voice at the mention of Arwen. "There's even word that you have a child now. A son. Congratulations."

Elessar nodded slowly. "Yes. It's true, life has been good to me. But not, I take it, to you. What's happened?"

The bitterness in the elf's voice moved into her face and she took a deep breath. "The question, Elfstone, is what _hasn't_ happened to me since Edoras.

"When I awoke in the healer's care and found out you were gone, I was frantic. I needed to know whether you had forgiven me for my attack on you. I stole a horse and rode hard for Dunharrow, where I'd heard you'd gone. They tried to keep your location from me, but it is hard to keep any such mass exodus quiet.

"But in my crazed state I rode north, instead of east to Dunharrow. I rode my horse nigh unto death, and when I came to myself, I could see Fangorn Forest in the distance. I knew then that I had lost my way. There was nothing for it though, but to keep on riding the way I had set out. Thus I rode for many days, shying from Fangorn and Lorien and finally passing through Mirkwood.

"I wandered in Mirkwood for days uncounted. My horse abandoned me in terror and I was beset by many nameless evils in the dark. When I at last emerged into the pale light of the North, all speech had been driven from me.

"Wandering alone and dazed from the horrors of the wood, I was met by a pair of Rangers of the North. They took me in and, despite my lack of speech, trained me long in the ways of the Rangers until I was one of them.

"In that time, I fell in love with one called Elladan. We married in the spring. Elladan hoped one day to coax me to speak, though at the time I thought it impossible that I should ever speak again.

"The morning after our wedding, I awoke later than I normally did. Elladan was standing outside of our dwelling, talking in low tones to his brother Elrohir. By chance, I heard Elrohir say, "What did you ever do to deserve her, son of Elrond?"

"At that I sat straight up in bed and screamed, the first sound I'd made in years. When the brothers came to me, I sobbed out my story. Horror of horrors, my husband was my brother. There was nothing we could do, however, the damage had been done. We broke off our marriage, of course, and I spoke from that day onward.

"But it was too late, I became pregnant. I have a son now. He is in the North, with his father. After he was born, I rode down to find you. I wanted you to see what I had become. I want you to know that I don't need you or any other man to fulfill my life. I am my own person. I need no other.

"But still, there is never a day that I do not think of you, and often I wonder how things might have been different if not for my sister. And I wondered if you would keep your promise never to forget me. Yes, I heard those whispered words twenty years ago. I heard them and I've enshrined them in my heart, thinking that you actually cared. But now I return to find promises broken, and a scarred elf maiden farther from your mind than ever before."

Elessar, stunned, tried to defend himself. "I do care! I've...thought about you. I remember you each time I ride into Edoras. It is merely the memory of your face that has faded, and the memory of your voice. But still, I am a busy man, I have a kingdom, a family to consider!"

The woman's face hardened. "Of course. I apologize, my Lord. I don't know why I expected you to think of me, a simple slave girl who has no bearing on any of your affairs. I will trouble you no longer." Turning her horse, she began to ride off in the opposite direction.

The Lord of Gondor halted Roheryn, standing in his stirrups to shout, "I will always remember you, Rosegold Morgil!"

She stopped and looked back at him. Her words were faint, carried on the breeze. "You will not remember me, son of man. In six hours, you will not even remember that we have met today. And that is because I do not matter to you. I will never matter to you. You promised me your memory when I was young, love-struck, and weak of heart. I believed you and now see what you have done. Broken are your promises and broken is my trust in you. No words you can now speak will ever move me to believe that my memory will keep a place in your mind." Then she disappeared, leaving King Elessar hurt, confused, and with a lot of food for thought.


	6. Epilogue

_I never saw her again after that day. I searched for her whenever I could, riding far and wide for news of the woman Ranger. I wanted to tell her that I was sorry and that I meant what I said to her at out last meeting. But even Elladan and Elrohir had heard nothing of her since the birth of her son. Once, a tale did come to me of a Ranger called the Morgil who perished doing great things against the remainder of the Shadow in the East. Whether this be true or false, I cannot say. I know only that the youngest child of Elrond has passed from the sight of all men. All I can do in her honor is set down this tale so that none may forget the life of this long-forgotten one._

_-King Elessar Telcontar_


End file.
